


ashes to ashes

by mooningsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Mutual Pining, OOC Dean, OOC John, OOC Lucifer - Freeform, Prostitute Sam Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam is L O V E D, Sassy Sam, Smart Sammy, apparently i have a thing for that, chuck favors him, sam is the man reborn from ashes, sam spends 1320 years in the Cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 08:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14374404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooningsammy/pseuds/mooningsammy
Summary: Sam's pretty sure his family will be better off without him.—Chuck Shurley disagrees.





	ashes to ashes

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to include Cas, but i didn't know how? if you have any ideas, please comment and i'll post a second chapter including Cas. Or, feel free to post a coda to this including him.

“Fuck you!” Sam shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You don’t give a damn about me, all you ever talk about it your most recent lay and why I’m such a loser.”

Sam was hurting, but no matter what he wanted to tell Dean, he knew he couldn’t. Dean could not save him from himself. Nobody could. All Sam could do was get as far away from his loved ones as possible, before somebody got hurt.

“Sammy—“

“Fuck off.” Sam slammed the motel door behind himself, walking—no, rushing—down the street without any idea where he could be going.

He could hear his name being called out from the direction of the motel, but he refused to turn around and go back, against his better judgement and his instincts. He needed to leave now, because things would only get worse.

As it turned out, there wasn’t much you could do at sixteen. Sam couldn’t use his own ID, and when he used the fakes that Dad and Dean gave him, he got looks from people, suspicious looks.

But he found a different way to make money than hustling pool and working in the shady places he was used to.

He worked in even shadier places, using his good looks to his advantage. He started to shut down, but at least Dad and Dean were safe: they weren’t going to die for him like Mom had.

Sometimes, he’d have a dream. A guy with warm eyes and a small smile on his goateed face would tell him that he was special. That maybe it didn’t seem that way now, but one day, the world would see. That same man showed up in the middle of nightmares and changed the scenery until Sam could have a peaceful rest. On the worst nights.

The people he went to on his shady jobs started getting shadier when Sam started building up more muscle. He hated it, but he was submissive to them: he didn’t have a choice. It started getting out of control then, but Sam was at a loss. If he stopped working, he stopped making money, and if he didn’t have money, he had nowhere to go.

And then, one night, Sam got it really bad. By the time everything was said and done, he was a bloody, weeping mess on the floor of some shady motel, and he was dying.

“It’s okay, Sam. My name is Chuck. I can help you.”

“I don’t deserve your help,” he told the voice, and his own sounded so hoarse to his ears that he decided not to speak again.

“I can put you somewhere safe. It’s relatively large and nobody can get in or out. Just until you recover.”

Sam nodded. _Please_.

Slowly, everything went dark, and Sam felt peace, true peace, for the first time in over a year. Maybe longer.

[]

At first, everything was too bright. But as he came to, he realized it wasn’t the sun, or even a light. It was a beautiful creature, standing against a wall of stone and iron. “Good morning sleeping beauty. Who are you and how did you get here?”

Sam shook his head, trying to unscramble his marbles. “I’m… Sam Winchester? And I was put here for safety.”

The creature cocked its head. “ _Safety?_ This is like a terrible joke! You’re a human!”

Sam shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint. That’s all I’m good for.”

“My Father is doing this to torment me,” he replied blandly, stomping his foot like a petulant child.

“Uh, the man with the goatee is your father?”

It looked at him again, and Sam didn’t bother trying to move. He was still sore and uncomfortable. He’d asked the man not to heal him as punishment for his failures.

“You’re injured,” it said, like the thought was foreign. “He sent me an _injured human_?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not here for you. It’s just until I get better.”

“Why didn’t he just heal you?”

“I deserve this. I’ve failed and this is my punishment. It could be worse.”

The creature groaned. “What the _Hell_.”

Sam huffed. “You’re so whiney. Are you just a selfish brat, or some kind of criminal?”

It looked at him. “You know, for a human you’re pretty spot on. Although I am perfectly happy with myself.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re complaining about your father the way you are. You don’t have daddy issues or anything.”

“I am an archangel, Sam Winchester. You have no _idea_ what I can do.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care what you can do. You’re an archangel. So you’re either in need of protection, or you’re the one they cast out, right? Lucifer?”

It stopped whistling from boredom when Sam got to the end of his sentence. “Seriously? You believe me?”

“Dude, you’re locked up. He said nobody could get in or out—oh my God. You… we… That was God. I met God.”

The archangel looked amused. “You seem surprised.”

“A lot of people—so many—they don’t believe. I’ve always had faith, but well, I’m the last person I’d expect God to reach out to. Even if he put me here for torture—which I’m sure I probably deserve—he still bothered speaking to me first. I’m sure he has more important matters to deal with.”

“Angel radio says God has been absent from Heaven for millennia. My idiot brothers are running things and doing a _terrible_ job of it.”

Sam ignored his shaking hands, and pushed himself into a sitting position, although he immediately regretted it. “Well, he’s going by Chuck now, and he was nice to me.”

[]

Surprisingly, Lucifer didn’t torture Sam while he was there. They talked a lot, about humane things and angelic things. Sam learned a lot, and it was centuries before he was released with a whisper of gratitude and luck.

He smiled to himself at the thought of God wishing him luck and set out to find his brother. Honestly, he kind of missed Lucifer once he was topside because the fallen angel never looked at him like he was a failure, and never pitied him. Never treated him like anything except the person who shared his prison.

Sam also missed Chuck, because Chuck had accepted him when he was at his lowest, given him somewhere to go to recuperate.

Sam had prayed every night for as long as he remembered, and hadn’t given up even after he was sent to Lucifer’s cage. He wondered if Chuck could still hear prayers, and then laughed at himself, because of _course_ Chuck could still hear prayers. He could do anything.

[]

“Sam Winchester?” Bobby was staring at him, confused. “How are you, kid?”

He was twenty-eight and built, and he hadn’t found Dean right away so he went to Bobby’s. He’d been in Lucifer’s cage for eleven years, or 1,320 Hell years. He didn’t tell Bobby that part. “Hi, Bobby. I’m doing okay, how are you?”

“I’m okay, son. You know, for five years, your big brother scoured this country for you. We even tried contacts in other countries. We thought… that you were dead.”

Sam frowned, and felt a little guilty. “I was… put away for awhile.”

“Put away. Like in jail?”

Sam just nodded, because there was no believable way to explain Luci’s cage. “It’s a long story… I’ve been back for about a month, and I’ve caught up on all the technology and everything, but I’ve… been trying to find Dean. And I don’t know where to look.”

Bobby pulled him in for a hug. “It’s certainly good to see you, boy. Let’s go inside and I’ll give him a call, see where he is so I can send you to him.”

“You’re the best, Bobby.”

[]

Sam said goodbye to Bobby and climbed into the borrowed car, patting the dash. “Okay, Detroit, here we come.”

He was about halfway there when he found someone in his passenger seat. “Hi, Sam,” the man said, although Sam could pretty much tell he wasn’t a man.

“So, which one are you? Gabriel?”

The angel looked surprised. “Jeez. Even my brothers don’t recognize me, but the man reborn from ashes does?”

“Reborn from—what?”

Gabriel sighed, all dramatic. “When an innocent man is raised from Hell by God, we call it being ‘reborn from ashes’. Did the old man even show himself?” Gabriel scoffed. “Never mind. So, where are we headed?”

“Detroit?”

“For Big Brother? He’s hunting me, although he doesn’t know I’m _me_.”

“Let me guess: pagan god, maybe… Loki?” Sam smirked at the archangel. “Bet you killed someone who deserved it, but nobody knows it?”

“Just desserts.”

Sam smiled at the windshield. “Okay, Gabriel, what do you want with me?”

“I want to know where in Hell you were.”

“I was in Lucifer’s Cage.”

The archangel blinked surprise at him. “You were in… And he didn’t hurt you?”

Sam shook his head. “No, he taught me. And I taught him.”

“You taught… _Lucifer_.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Uh, so? He’s very agreeable nowadays. And, I’m his vessel and all.”

After a moment, Gabriel was gone.

[]

Sam studied the motel Dean was supposedly staying in, biting his lip. “To enter, or not to enter? That is the question.”

Dean wasn’t there, and Sam asked himself where his brother would be at this hour.

Dean was at the nearest diner, eating a burger and reading a paper, so he was probably finished with whatever case he was on.

Bobby had told him how his Dad had died—a wendigo who wasn’t alone—and Sam wished he could have made amends with him. He'd work extra hard on his relationship with Dean, though. He had to. Dean was—well, he was the most important part of Sam’s entire life. He raised Sam to the best of his ability.

He sighed and got out of the car, walking inside the diner and slipping into the booth across from Dean, silently, like he’d done everything since about year 500 in Hell.

Dean didn’t notice him until he looked up to order more coffee—and dropped the paper he was holding. “Holy shit!”

“Hi, Dean,” Sam said softly.

“Are you a ghost?” Dean asked just as quiet.

“No.”

“Shapeshifter?”

“You got silver?”

Dean nodded. “I—yeah.”

Sam nodded, holding out his arm. He was tan, as if he hadn’t just arrived from being technically dead. He didn’t understand, but went with it, because Chuck liked what he liked, and Sam wasn’t one to question the Creator.

“What are you?” Dean asked, after several minutes. The silver had no effect on Sam’s skin, of course, which baffled Dean even more. “And why do you look like my brother?”

“I am, Dean. It’s Sam. And I’m here to apologize.”

Bobby had told Sam how Dean had changed after he disappeared. How John had started treating Dean like he was softer, vulnerable, and Dean had just started being… sensitive. Thank Chuck.

“Sammy?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, I promise. Ever since I got out, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Got out of where?”

Sam looked at the table. “I was in Hell.” He looked up. “I wasn’t being tortured or anything, I was safe. Chuck saved my life, and he put me there to keep me safe.”

“What happened? And who is Chuck?” Dean leaned back. “Do you mean Chuck Shurley? The writer?”

Sam was surprised. “Yeah.”

“The prophet?”

“That’s what he’s telling people?” Sam nodded. “I was seventeen and in a bad way. He found me and I woke up in Hell, with an archangel for company.”

[]

Dean brought Sam back to his motel and sat him down. “Tell me, Sammy, please. I gotta know. I thought I lost you for good.”

Sam nodded, letting Dean grip his hands. “After I ran away, I started putting out for cash.”

He heard Dean’s soft gasp and pushed forward.

“It wasn’t so bad at first: I was soft and shy. But then I started shutting down and they got shadier.”

“Sammy,” Dean breathed. “Why didn’t you just come back to me?”

“I was scared. I didn’t want to get you hurt.” Sam shuddered. “There was a guy, tall and muscular and too much for me. When he was done with me, I was practically dead. I could hardly move, and Chuck found me on the dirty motel room floor. He told me he was gonna take me some place safe and then I woke up in the Cage.”

At Dean’s look of confusion, Sam clarified. “The Cage is Lucifer’s prison.”

“Lucifer… as in Satan?”

Sam squeezed his hand. “He finds that name offensive. But yes, technically, Lucifer is what most people call Satan. He isn’t so bad, though.”

“He didn’t hurt you?”

“No, he taught me about angels.”

“Just because?”

“In return, he wanted to know what made humans so special. So, I taught him about humans.”

“Oh.” Dean hadn’t let go, and Sam wondered if he was starved for touch. Or maybe starved for Sam. Sam didn’t mind, not with the way he missed his brother. He coaxed Dean into a hug.

“I missed you.”

He felt Dean shudder against him. “I thought I lost you, Sammy. God, I thought you were dead.”

Sam squeezed a little tighter. “I am so sorry.”

[]

Sam woke up early with Dean clinging to him for dear life. He just hugged his brother back, because it wasn’t like he and Lucifer cuddled or anything, and Sam at least knew that he was an octopus when he was feeling clingy.

“Sammy, how did Chuck put you in the Cage?”

Sam ignored Dean’s morning breath and pressed a sloppy little brother kiss to his cheek. “Well, he just kinda zapped me there. And when the time came, he zapped me back out? I’m not totally sure if he wants me to tell you how he _could_ do it. I can ask though.”

“It’s okay, I was just curious. As long as you weren’t in danger down there, I’m thankful. I owe him.”

“I really like him, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“He used to save me from my nightmares,” Sam said. “Prior to that night he rescued me, I kept seeing him right before he’d turn a nightmare into just blank sleep.”

Sam smiled when Dean pressed closer. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Better than I have since I got topside.” He brushed fingers through Dean’s hair. “A lot of what I taught Lucifer about humanity had to do with you. How good and strong and pure you are, even though you think you aren’t. How you’d do anything to keep the people you care about safe, and how you hate being alone.”

Dean rubbed his nose along Sam’s collar bone. “I just keep thinking about what happened to you before Chuck…” His voice cracked.

Sam was quiet for a little, until he decided he owed Dean the truth. “I used to pretend they were someone else just to get through it without wanting to eat a bullet.”

“Sammy, you deserve so much more than that.”

“I felt like I deserved it for what I did—how I left you.”

Dean sat up, horrified. “Sam, never. You _never_ deserve something like that. No matter what, _you will never deserve to be hurt or used._ You deserve all the love in the world.”

Sam smiled at him. “You always did see good where I saw how weak I was.”

The older Winchester pulled Sam against him, sighing into his hair. “Who did you pretend it was?”

He felt Sam’s skin get hot, flushing from embarrassment. “You’re going to make fun of me… Or, or worse…”

“No, Sammy, you know I won’t. I promise, little brother,” he finished in a whisper. “I just want to know if it’s someone I should hurt. Because I don’t want anyone else to touch you. Ever.”

Sam cleared his throat, burying his face in Dean’s neck. “Pretended it was you. Only person I feel this safe with. Only way I could get through it.”

Dean shook, tightening his arms around Sam and breathing him in. _“Sam.”_

“I know what you’re going to say. ‘We’re brothers, Sam.’ I know we are, Dean, but… you’re all I have. And I love you. And I hate being away from you.”

“Shh, Sammy. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“You’re trembling.”

Dean nodded. “I know, it’s just… I never thought you could feel like that about me.”

Sam eventually pulled back to look at him, dropping his arms to his sides. “You know…, before, you never would have said that. You would have told me to forget about it. That it was alright, but brothers don’t do that.”

Dean couldn’t deny it. If Dad hadn’t sat him down and explained to him that he didn’t have to be so _hard_ all the time, he would have been way different. Losing Sam all those years ago made the remaining Winchesters rethink their morals. “You’re right, Sammy. I would have. But I would have also been lying to you, and I swore to myself I would never do that again if I ever got you back.”

Sam visibly relaxed, wrapping around Dean until they were lying down. “Thank you.”

“And Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too. More than anything, ever.”


End file.
